


Fingerprints

by palomino333



Series: Pandora-verse [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Caring, First Time, Gentle Sex, Inspired by Music, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mind Meld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 16:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17749076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palomino333/pseuds/palomino333
Summary: Runs from "Return of the Archons" to "A Taste of Armageddon." "No, he decided, he wouldn't consider him lost. This planet could not have him."





	Fingerprints

Spock glanced off the side of his bunk, his hand moving aside a cloth from the hood he wore, concealing his identity as a non-human. McCoy's eyes were closed from where he lay upon the uninhabited cot, though his sleep appeared light.

He theorized that the doctor was contemplating the violence occurring outside. There was nothing to be done, however, as the festival would continue unabated. It would not be safe for the doctor to venture out there.

He wondered if the doctor entertained the possibility of attempting to join him, on this bunk, but decided against pursuing that line of thinking further. His thoughts had been beginning to stray to the carnal after becoming involved with Leonard, and Spock found that to be concerning. It diverted his focus from more intellectual pursuits.

Then again, this could be considered an experiment.

McCoy handed a PADD over to him. "I want you to read over this carefully. This is a comprehensive list of what can go wrong, if we decide to continue with this." Spock searched over it. There were a few problems pointed out on the PADD, such as diseases that could be transmitted between each humanoid species, with their being close enough in DNA. On the human side, McCoy had noted down several infamous sexually transmitted diseases, most notably HIV, which had at last been nullified during the previous century. For Spock, there were concerns as to the fragility of his hybrid anatomy, particularly in compatibility of bodily fluids.

"These are factors, but they can be mitigated," Spock commented at last, placing the PADD aside. "You are qualified to handle them."

McCoy smiled, and, placing his hand about Spock's cheek, tilted his face up for a kiss. Spock set the PADD down on the table to grasp handfuls of his lover's uniform shirt. He wanted his heat and his scent, then, simply because he could. Illogical, but he found enjoyment in the sensations as McCoy's hands ran over him.

Spock faced the wall and focused himself upon a light meditation to shut out the racket below.

XXXXXX

McCoy awoke to the sound of voices, talking in low tones. Scrambling, he sat up, and drew himself backward. There were robed men, four of them, who were picking over the bodies of his unconscious crew mates. He was sitting the closest to Jim and Spock, both out cold. "Leave them alone!" McCoy demanded.

A robed head rose at his voice. "Oh, the doctor is awake," he commented, coming over to stand before him.

McCoy brushed his hand against his side and mumbled under his breath upon realizing that his sidearm was missing. "What do you want with us?"

The man before him spread his arms. "Why, to help you, brother! I see it in your eyes, you are suffering, as are your friends. Landru will make that all go away."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll pass," he replied, folding his arms.

The figure before him turned to glance at Spock's unconscious form, and McCoy scooted close to the Vulcan, glaring sharply up at the stranger.

"He is a greater threat to us," one of the robed men commented.

McCoy protectively placed a hand over Spock's head. "That's a foolish notion. If you erase his mind, then he'll be functionally useless to you. He'll need someone to care for him."

The robed men looked at one another. Turning back, one asked, "Are you proposing a deal?"

"Yes," he replied, his hand falling from Spock, and hoping that this would buy Jim enough time. "The people you have on the surface level are mindless."

"That is the point," another replied, motioning for a guard to come over to McCoy.

The doctor drew back as he was prodded against before shoving the rod away. "You didn't let me finish. I can work on them, perhaps to halt the necessity for this festival of yours at all. It causes needless destruction."

"We can't guarantee that," one of the men replied, "Nevertheless, it is up to the will of Landru. If he finds your proposal to be sound, he will grant you your wish."

McCoy nodded his head solemnly. "All right, I'll go with you. Just leave them alone."

"They will have to come with us in due time, doctor. Nevertheless, we will respect your wishes for the time being. This way, please."

As the metal restraints locked over his wrists, McCoy knew immediately that he had made a mistake. Nevertheless, there was no going back now. "Relax, doctor, it will all be over soon," a robed man said, dropping his hood to reveal a shaved head, and walking away.

McCoy took his gaze from him and froze. His eyes widened, taking in the fullness of the light. A presence, bright and warm, reached out and enveloped him. A voice spoke in his head, so gentle and soft, coaxing him to open his mind, and let go of his pain. It would be taken care of.

McCoy understood everything in one moment, and the next, his consciousness was ripped away.

XXXXXX

Spock felt something akin to horror upon seeing Leonard so changed, miles beneath the surface of that planet. He was utterly blank in gaze and spouting off praises about the so-called "body." He and McCoy had spoken briefly on the idea of mental dialogues between them, but the talks had not gone far. Spock could understand why, but this situation appeared different to him. He had to try. He would apologize to Leonard later.

Standing over him, his black cloak gathering, Spock found himself relishing the prospect of an argument with him again. Raising his hand to McCoy's head, he began to initiate a mind meld.

Someone was calling out to Leonard where he was, adrift in his bliss. The words were cold, and distant. McCoy stirred once but didn't continue. He didn't want to go back to the pain of living. He wanted that other voice, so familiar to him, but so far away, to leave him be. Retreating from it, he relaxed in the solace of darkness. He need not worry about anything, ever again. Landru would take care of him. Landru took care of everyone.

Spock released McCoy's face. The man was but a shell, now, of who he once was. He couldn't find him, and at the notion of having lost him forever, felt the irrationality of fear within him. His release of it went noticed by his crewmates as a soft breath, nothing more. He didn't want to think of his lover during that red hour. The doctor, despite the acid he spat, was not a man predisposed to violence. McCoy would hate himself for it. But then again, he wouldn't, would he? His personality was slowly being erased, if it had not been, already.

It was unacceptable, Spock decided, although he knew that line of thinking to be irrational, as well. There was nothing that he could have done to protect Leonard, having been unconscious during the doctor's forced assimilation, but he couldn't keep images of his lover from his mind. He thought of the uncertainty on McCoy's face as he hovered near the captain's chair while Kirk fought the Gorn. He thought as well of his closeness to McCoy that day, on the bridge in front of the crew, no less, with their arms and fingers brushing more than once, not sure if whether their touches would be the last, if Kirk lost.

No, he decided, he wouldn't consider him lost. This planet could not have him.

XXXXXX

"Mind if I ask you something?"

"An illogical question," Spock commented, not bothering to glance up from his PADD as he typed, "You have already asked me something by saying that."

McCoy scowled at that but decided against leaving. He needed an answer to this. "I see. Well, does the superior Vulcan have time for an illogical human such as me?"

"A limited amount. Please be brief," Spock replied.

McCoy internally gave a sigh of relief. It would be easier to slip the question by Spock this way. Nevertheless, it had probably been nothing, and the Vulcan's attention division wouldn't be so damning as would a full-on conversation. Quietly, he asked, "Did you meld with me on Beta III?"

There was a hesitation. It was ever so slight, that McCoy thought for a moment that he had imagined Spock's fingers pausing. Then Spock said, keeping his head down on his work. "Yes."

McCoy swallowed, and glanced about. He fought down the compulsion to bring the back of his hand across Spock's face. He felt violated, and his teeth ground together at the notion of what Spock might have seen. Slackening his jaw, he replied tightly, "Well, I hope I was entertaining enough for you."

Spock lifted his head at that, a flicker of electricity passing through his eyes for a moment. "Doctor, that was an unfair assumption of you to make." McCoy's eyes widened at the fact that he had managed to get an emotional reaction out of Spock. However, he didn't smile at it. Spock almost appeared wounded at his assumption. Spock continued, "I could neither find you, nor hear your voice. I did not register any of your thoughts."

"I felt someone in the back of my mind, when I was being controlled. It was weak, but it was still there," McCoy commented.

Spock raised his head. "I took the logical course of action to find you. We were not sure if you were completely lost, Leonard."

McCoy glanced to the side and swallowed. Deciding to divert from his own display of weakness, he asked, "Did that scare you?"

"I do not feel fear." Despite Spock's polite tone, the quick cadence of his words bore a resemblance to a snap.

McCoy held up a hand. "Fine, we'll let that go." Dropping his hand, he said, "Landru's control was too heavy. It wasn't just that I couldn't regain myself, but I didn't want to."

"Is there a reason?" Spock asked.

"I don't want to go any further into it," he replied defensively.

Spock acquiesced, and McCoy's expression slowly softened. "Leonard, I have a question," Spock began.

"If you're not going to prod me, then go ahead. Otherwise, I'm not in the mood."

A moment passed, wherein Spock visibly took in a breath. "You and I have spoken of the prospect of sexual intercourse," his head tilted to the side, "If I proposed to engage in such tonight, would you agree?"

McCoy stood for a moment, surprised at the change in subject matter. The next, he closed his eyes, chuckling. Hugging his arms more tightly about himself, he replied, "I would, Mr. Spock."

XXXXXX

McCoy tugged at his clothing and swiped the back of his hand across his brow. It wasn't overwhelmingly comfortable, but the heightened heat in his room was still difficult to get used to. He had calibrated the thermostat as carefully as he could have and placed away anything Spock might find boorish or offensive. He wanted the environment to be as comforting as it could to his lover.

He didn't think any less of Spock for being a virgin, rather that aspect didn't shock him, but he still had his concerns. Perhaps he was growing worrisome in his old age, he thought with a tinge of humor.

When Spock did arrive, McCoy greeted him, his one hand on the desk, and his head tilted to the side. "Mr. Spock, what can I do for you, this evening?" His playacting, however, fell away to surprise upon seeing that Spock was holding a wrapped item in his hand.

"I have brought you a gift, doctor," Spock replied, "therefore, to answer your question, you can take it."

Spock gently turned over the wrapped gift in his hand and revealed the bright white of the lily from the arboretum. McCoy smiled at the proffered gift. "Thanks. Here, I'll find a vase for it." Spock allowed McCoy to take it from him and grasp a cylinder for it. Spock didn't consider giving McCoy a flower from Vulcan, knowing that the temperature to keep it alive would have given him too much discomfort. Still, he did find some peace in watching McCoy gently arrange the lily on his desk, brushing out the leaves and petals of the flower to straighten it.

Backing away from it, McCoy turned back to look at him. "Want a drink?"

"What would that accomplish?" Spock inquired, "That is not the purpose of our meeting tonight."

McCoy looked surprised, and then slowly smiled with a shake of the head. "It's hospitality, Spock. I'm not going to immediately make you climb into bed with me."

"Would conversation suffice?" Spock asked, "I fear that quantum theorem might not be an interesting topic for you, doctor."

Realizing that Spock was teasing him, Leonard replied coyly, "If that's supposed to be a Vulcan version of pillow talk, I'm out."

"You would rather remain willfully ignorant of other cultures?" Spock inquired, moving toward him with his hands clasped behind his back, "I find that disappointing, doctor."

McCoy breathed in the incense that was radiating from Spock's body before replying, "I would rather not expend an effort where it isn't needed." A look passed through Spock's eyes, signifying that the match McCoy had been playing with had sparked into a flame.

Spock moved closer to him, his one hand moving out from behind his back. McCoy stepped backwards, toward his bed in the other room, his arms still folded before him, and that inviting smirk on his face. Spock's long fingers shot out, and seized McCoy's arms. McCoy barely had time to suck in a breath. "You could've just asked," he commented with a slight scowl.

"I have reason to doubt your ability to listen to me, doctor," he replied simply.

McCoy's quip was silenced in the back of his throat as he felt Spock's fingers brushing and pressing over his skin. He slipped one arm out from under Spock's hand, and brought it up to kiss the back of it. He stepped backward, Spock moving after him, only to let go upon McCoy entering the bedchamber.

McCoy sat back upon the bed, bracing his weight on the palms of his hands. "We'll take whatever pace you want."

Spock glanced over his lover, and slowly grasped his shirt. McCoy lowered his hand to cover Spock's before letting go as the Vulcan moved his hand. Tugging McCoy's uniform shirt over his head, Spock deposited it beside him. He'd seen Leonard in his undershirt before on a few occasions when they had fooled around, but no further than that. Spock's hand stopped, and he glanced up at McCoy, who raised an eyebrow at him.

"Spock, you all right?" McCoy asked gently.

Spock met his eyes at his words. McCoy was leaning ever so slightly sideways, a concerned look on his face. "Yes," he replied quietly, staring at him fully.

McCoy asked, "You want to lead?"

Propping his weight on his arm, Spock ran a hand through his lover's hair. "I appreciate the offer, but I lack the proper experience."

"Is this what you want?"

"It is."

"All right, then give me a few minutes. I don't want to get up just yet," he muttered, allowing himself to relax against Spock's touch. The Vulcan raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, stroking his hair before patting the side of McCoy's head in a gentle command to move. With a grunt, McCoy sat up, and Spock dropped his hands to the doctor's waist.

The undershirt slipped off and hit the bed's surface. Spock, curious, extended a hand toward McCoy's front. The chestnut hair on it was soft, curling over Spock's fingers. The doctor, much like any human, was soft around his stomach, and McCoy stifled a chuckle as Spock inadvertently tickled him by touching him. His skin was gently pressed down upon, with Spock fascinated by it. Strokes found scars, imperfections, and moles. Spock ran his fingers over McCoy's ribs. McCoy groaned at the attention, his mouth opening in a lazy grin. "That's it, like that, darling."

Spock watched McCoy in fascination as he continued to stroke and caress him. The doctor's features had relaxed and slackened, allowing him to display a vulnerability to him. McCoy was soft and malleable. He was reactive to gentle touches, and strokes, his body able to be manipulated. He was uncertain as to whether it was due to McCoy's experience with foreplay, or his trust in him.

Spock's curiosity continued, his fingers moving to McCoy's pants. At his lover's slight nod, he undid them, and removed them, as well as the underwear. McCoy's boxers slid to his knees, and Spock blinked, glancing up at the doctor. McCoy self-consciously raised a hand to brush away hair that wasn't there. "Well, uh, here I am." He wasn't sure exactly what was going through Spock's mind, but he didn't like the fact that his lover was staring at him. He felt as if he was on display.

Spock chose not to say anything, rather he tugged McCoy to him, kissing and nibbling at his neck and ear. McCoy's breath caught as he felt the Vulcan's tongue in his ear, and he pushed backward. He stared at Spock, breathing heavily, not fully believing what his lover had done. This couldn't be the same stiff and chaste man he had involved himself with. Nevertheless, he found the difference to be exciting, though the unexpectedness of it made him uneasy.

Spock grasped the doctor tightly, not wanting him to leave. McCoy, however, squirmed against him, concerned as to whether something was wrong. "You are beautiful," Spock at last said quietly.

McCoy stopped, his hands falling. Spock still wasn't letting go of him, but he allowed it to pass. He wanted Spock to be able to relax, as he still felt his nerves radiating from him. He vaguely was aware of Spock sliding his boxers down to his ankles, exposing him fully. McCoy maneuvered himself slightly to allow the garment to be taken completely away.

Spock crawled onto him, and slowly brought his hands over his shoulders. Leonard continued to breathe heavily, groaning as the Vulcan lowered his head to kiss his Adam's apple softly. Spock nuzzled up against Leonard's chest, causing the doctor to catch his jaw and joke, "Tease."

Spock lifted his hand, curling about McCoy's, and lowered it. Holding McCoy's hand aloft, he slowly kissed down the human's chest, tracing over the bones he could feel within it. McCoy wasn't necessarily a thin man, but Spock found that he liked the setting of the man's bones. He carefully held his lover in place to keep him from squirming out of his grip, not wanting him to get loose as he continued down. Spock kissed McCoy's hip, and his lover groaned. Finding he liked the reaction, Spock continued to kiss along it, moving inward toward his crotch. McCoy grasped the back of his head, and yanked him in closer, groaning, "Jesus, Spock! You've never done this before?"

Spock's breath caught against McCoy's side, and he raised his head to see McCoy's strained expression, the doctor red-faced and wide-eyed. "I have conducted my own research on this matter."

McCoy blinked, and shook his head at him with a smirk. Spock lowered his head and licked along the base of his lover's penis, his tongue rasping along the musky, soft surface. McCoy's breaths caught at that, and Spock was fascinated by the twitching of his lover's flesh. Here McCoy was pliable to him, and somewhat controllable, with his tongue breaking the doctor's concentration easily. McCoy brought the palm of his hand against Spock's head. He sounded short of breath as he said, "Much as I like the attention, we're just getting started." Spock slowly raised his head to stare up at him, and a flicker of disappointment passed over his features. McCoy chuckled. "You should be happy that you can rile me like that."

"Perhaps you should consider restraint," Spock commented.

McCoy shrugged. "If it keeps your hands on me like that for longer, I'll consider it."

Spock slowly raised up on his forearms, and leaned forward, touching his head to the side of McCoy's neck. He felt his lover's hands on his tunic and sat up to allow it to be pulled off. He leaned into McCoy as he felt his lover's fingers brushing over his back. "Do you mind if I take this off?" McCoy asked, settling his hand over the undershirt. Spock nodded. The undershirt slipped, and Spock sat before him, propped on the palms of his hands. McCoy slowly smiled at the sight of Spock's bare chest. He'd seen it before during Spock's physical, but not in this context. He raised his gaze, however, and asked, "Can I?"

Spock slowly gave a nod. McCoy ran a hand over it, and the Vulcan barely reacted. McCoy continued to brush up against him, enjoying the softness of Spock's chest hair and tautness of his muscles. Spock slowly relaxed with a release of breath, easing into McCoy's touch. McCoy leaned forward and kissed the side of his throat. "Want me to continue?"

Spock brushed his lover's hand softly away. "I will do so."

McCoy's eyebrow lowered, and a shadow seemed to pass over his eyes. He didn't stop Spock when the Vulcan undid his pants, slipping them and his underwear off. McCoy slowly smiled at the sight of Spock's penis, standing erect before him and flushed green. He reached a hand toward it without really thinking, only for Spock to gently brush it aside. He felt a jolt and scooted away from Spock to sit beside him. Spock titled his head to look at him, and McCoy realized that he had felt his lover's sense of nervousness. "It's not meant to be perfect, Spock." Arching his back, he chuckled. "Hell, I got it wrong multiple times."

Spock drew the blanket about his chest. "I wish to be a worthy lover."

McCoy's eyes widened at the ceiling in realization. Closing them, he gave an understanding nod. "All right, I think you and I need to have a little chat about that. You're going to make mistakes—don't you shake your head at me." Spock stopped himself, his head giving just the briefest indication of a shake. "I'm not saying that to be argumentative, it's just a statement of fact. Sex is awkward and dirty. It takes getting used to."

"Does it not become tedious, then?" Spock inquired.

McCoy smiled. "Then you try new things. Not everything works. I'm willing to have as many missteps as we need."

"With you, that number will likely by high," Spock replied.

"Oh, hush," McCoy shoved the Vulcan's shoulder, but Spock did not react to it. "What's the matter?"

"I have overheard things that humans say to one another," Spock commented.

McCoy waved a hand. "If they want to discuss their sexual escapades, that's up to them. If you don't want me to, I won't."

"Thank you."

"Of course."

Spock sat up to better see Leonard. Grabbing his black undershirt, McCoy tugged it over his head. His voice muffled by the cloth, he commented, "If you want to leave things as they are, that's fine."

"I would prefer not to do so," he replied, "Regardless, I find this view of you to be pleasing," Spock's eyes fell to the doctor's exposed rear.

The blanket lowered. McCoy ran his hand along it, pausing just before Spock. The Vulcan nodded. McCoy smiled, and took off his garment again before crawling over to him.

Each kiss slowly deepened, Spock clutching tightly at his lover. It wasn't a sensation Spock was used to, letting go and allowing someone else control over him. All the same, there was a sense of peace. He found, much to his own surprise, that he liked his lover's possessiveness. There was a solace in it, knowing that he would be taken care of. McCoy would see to that. Still, he had multiple reservations about placing himself in this human's hands.

Breaking off the kiss, McCoy moved his head to ask in his ear, "This all right?"

"Yes," he replied softly. McCoy's fingers brought a sigh of pleasure from him, in how they gently ran over his skin, rubbing and dragging along the surface. It was soft, and relaxing, McCoy's touch lingering, and his fingers spreading. Spock didn't allow himself to arch into his lover's touch. He felt tentative about it, considering the intimacy of it. He had to hold himself in control. A gasp, or an exclamation, was too much. McCoy joking about it was the least of his concerns, rather it was his own personal shame.

McCoy slowed, his hand curling up against Spock's chest, before dragging it backward. He knew that he couldn't push too hard, now, but the exposure of more of his lover's flesh drove him. He wanted all of him, his heart pounding against his ribs. He kissed at Spock's knee, and lay the side of his head against it, his eyes closed. He brushed the side of his hand against his lover's leg, his eyes still closed, leaving the decision to Spock.

The legs slowly parted, and McCoy smiled, his heart skipping a beat as he lowered his head. McCoy kissed down the side of Spock's leg. Pausing, he ran his tongue over the skin. Spock bit down on a groan, his free hand clutching at the sheet beneath him. McCoy placed his hand over it and squeezed it before picking it up. Bringing it up, he licked at the palm. Spock, his cheeks tinted green, raised an eyebrow at the gesture. It lowered as McCoy continued to lick slickly over the palm. Spock gnawed at the inside of his mouth as he sat up from it, the bed creaking with the movement, and his arm sagging over his knee.

McCoy lifted his head slightly, and kissed Spock's wrist. Those blue eyes raised and locked onto Spock with a sinful promise. Spock, for a moment, entertained the logical thought that he could not move, and found that he, despite himself, was tempted by the fantasy. Spock felt McCoy's hand wrapping around the back of his head, settling him back against the pillow beneath him. The doctor moved slowly forward, Spock watching the motion of his hips. Leonard leaned down and kissed him deeply. Drawing out, he asked, "You ready?"

After a moment of adjustment, Spock replied, "Yes."

McCoy rose slowly up, kissing down his lover's neck and chest. He muttered in a self-deprecating manner as he fidgeted about to position himself, "All right, let's see if this old boy has some steam left in him."

Spock didn't bother raising an eyebrow at the illogical statement, as he was distracted by Leonard's hands once more. McCoy ran his fingers in a manner which Spock found difficult to follow, leaving trails over his flanks, breasts, and stomach that never seemed to go anywhere. Ducking his head, he kissed and licked on Spock's skin, causing the Vulcan's expression to strain, more and more, as he began arch into McCoy's touch.

"Easy, darling, with me," he guided gently as he moved against him.

Spock found it uncomfortable, feeling McCoy's cock rubbing against his muscle as he sunk into him. He didn't allow a grunt to escape his throat and closed his eyes. He felt kisses, one after the other, being placed to his closed eyelids, and McCoy, his voice harder to recognize now in its huskiness, asking, "What's wrong?"

Spock said nothing, and McCoy knew that his partner was hiding something. He was only part of the way in and found the opening to be tight. He felt Spock's muscles clenching against him. McCoy nuzzled up against him, sighing raggedly, "Spock, please, tell me."

Spock's eyes opened, and for a moment, McCoy felt a barrier lower. Spock was afraid, though it was not related only to performance. He was concerned as to injury, as well as to McCoy's opinion of him. McCoy, despite his surprise at Spock's exposure of himself, chose to relent, instead of seizing his edge. "It's okay," he coaxed, brushing his hands over him, "I'm here. I've got you."

Spock gave a slight nod, rising slightly to steady himself for a moment, before directing, "All right." McCoy seized him again, and in a strangled whisper, Spock gasped, "Len!"

McCoy growled against him, driving into him, his nails possessively digging into Spock's skin. Spock steadied his breathing, though he clung hard to the back of McCoy's head, burying the human in his shoulder. He felt the man's breaths against him, hot and wet. He fisted his hand in his hair, while the other fell to his own penis, and began to jerk at it.

Leonard was grunting and groaning above him, with the meanings of his words lost, for the most part, save for "fuck." There were, however, a few moments he was able to parse fragments of phrases through gritted teeth as he thrust against him. "You feel so good, Spock, so good…"

Spock had trouble conjuring a reply, and McCoy ran his teeth over his jaw, growling, "Nobody else touches you, hear me? You're mine."

The claim caught Spock off-guard, and he shut his eyes tightly. Biting his lip against a groan, he came, his hand slipping on his penis in exhaustion. He felt a mouth trailing along his penis and opened an eye to see Leonard licking along it. He was about to comment, but instead shut his eyes against a pulling motion inside of himself.

McCoy's breath caught, and he quickly sat up, realigning his hips correctly. Placing his hands against Spock's buttocks, he carefully pulled himself out. Spock let out a breath at the sensation. McCoy rolled slightly off him, his hand on his own penis, Spock stared, exhausted, as the human jerked himself off, grunting harshly, his body lurching until at last he came. Dizzily, he dropped his forehead to the palm of his hand and breathed heavily.

"What?" Spock asked, short of breath and thought.

McCoy collapsed back against the pillow beside him, holding a finger in the air to gesture for him to wait a moment. Sweat and fluids were on the sheets and pillowcase, and Spock was not sure if he had done anything wrong. The doctor was not recognizable to him for a moment as he lay there, completely undone as he looked.

Catching his breath, McCoy explained, "Nothing you did, darling. Just wasn't sure if I was going to hurt you."

"How so?" Spock asked.

McCoy lifted a hand. "You didn't look comfortable. I was afraid I was going to tear something."

"I was not used to the sensations. I thought that was obvious," Spock commented.

McCoy drew a hand over his eyes. "That was, yes."

"Are you disappointed?"

"No," he replied, his hand falling at the low note in Spock's voice. "Spock don't be hard on yourself. It's not the first time I've gotten myself off, before." McCoy smiled slyly. "Besides, you looked sexy under me."

Spock glanced away at that and chose to sidestep his lover's praise. "Perhaps, then, our communication could use improvement."

"I'll agree," McCoy replied, taking advantage of Spock's diversion by sliding over to him to nibble on his ear. The Vulcan's breath caught in his throat at the contact, and Leonard felt a hand under the sheet slowly stroking along his stomach. "We've got time for that. For now, though, move over, you," McCoy muttered, nudging at him. Spock complied, rolling slightly. Draping his arm over him, his lover squeezed his shoulder, his fingers tracing lazily over in circles.

"Do you prefer your lovers to typically remain, afterward?" Spock asked.

"Mm-hm," McCoy kissed down the side of Spock's head, ending with a kiss behind his ear. "If you don't want me to, just let me know."

"If I asked if I could leave, would that disappoint you?" Spock asked, his question being more of genuine curiosity.

"It would, but it's your choice," McCoy replied truthfully, "and I'll respect it."

Spock grasped the human's hand and ran his fingers over the lines of his lover's palm in contemplation. "I will stay."

"I'm glad," McCoy ran his free hand over the side of Spock's head in a gentle caress. "Here." Picking up the blanket, he covered the Vulcan's body with it. Settling against him, he thought on how long it had been since another man had shared his bed.

Tonia had been soft, though she tended to roll around at night. At one point, he recalled having to grab her wrist to keep her from falling out of the bunk. Burying her mouth in her hand, she smothered a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, and he had kissed the top of her head affectionately.

Merlin had been rougher, shoving Leonard backward against the surface of the bunk, and climbing onto him. Back on that war-torn world, they'd needed to feel alive. And considering his actions with his patient, McCoy was lucky that Merlin took him back. Clapping a hand over his mouth to keep him from crying out, and waking the others, Merlin kissed along Leonard's bruises.

Spock had closed his eyes and was leaning against him. McCoy sighed as he stared down at him. Lying down beside him, he fondly placed an arm about him. He kissed the back of Spock's neck, and felt a contented warmth emanating to him from the Vulcan. He clung to it and smiled against the side of Spock's neck. If it felt like this, sleeping beside Spock, he would be content to do so again much more often in the future.

XXXXXX

The days following felt strange, as if the night itself was transplanted from a different reality. Each man returned to his duties, with the ship continuing to run. Life went on almost rhythmically, their physical touches not extending further than the chaste.

"I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" McCoy had inquired on more than one occasion.

"I still continue to touch you, do I not?" Spock asked plainly, his hands clasped before himself as he stared over the tiers of the chessboard.

McCoy was carefully watching his moves, trying to dissect that Vulcan's thought process. Raising his gaze to more fully look at him, he replied, "'Course you do."

"Then you have your answer," Spock replied, picking up a black rook to place on the top tier. McCoy glanced over at the remainder of the rec room and missed just the smallest hint of a smile Spock gave. Leonard had kept his promise to him.

Processing data from a large, jellyfish-like organism kept in a tank, McCoy commented, his hand pressed up against the glass as the pink organism floated by, "Why do you call me doctor, when we're not working?"

The hums of the ship provided a quiet ambience, the deserted area allowing the creature to rest. Spock was careful from where he stood near the control panel, keeping the pressure from affecting the creature within the rectangular tank from pressing down too heavily. The creature appeared to gravitate to the warmth of a hand upon the glass, brushing its tentacle against the glass before floating away.

"I would consider the term a pet name, as you humans call it," Spock replied. Internally, he allowed himself a feeling of amusement. He was his doctor, his cute physician. The term "doctor" tended to carry a different connotation whenever Spock said it, at least according to McCoy's annoyed reactions.

Physical excess, and desire, Spock thought quietly to himself. Meaningless.

Yet, the satisfaction derived from it was real. The noises the doctor made and the softness as he held him was real.

Settling down on the meditation mat, he gazed at the fire burning before him. Willing himself slowly into a trance, he left all thoughts of Leonard McCoy behind for the moment.

XXXXXX

It wasn't until after the trip to Eminiar VII that Spock was in McCoy's bed again.

Their lovemaking, then, had a different connotation. While not desperate, it had a sense of urgency behind it. Spock was quicker, and somewhat rougher, his nails digging into McCoy's hands. At last wriggling his fingers out of his lover's grasp, McCoy ran his hands down his flanks.

Lowering his head, he took a heavy breath from where he sat on Spock's lap. Eyes closed, he gave a slight nod, and Spock allowed his emotions to bleed through, if only for a moment. While the Vulcan couldn't feel the deaths of each individual as he or she stepped into that chamber, McCoy could feel his despair at the futility of it all. They would never be brought back.

Spock's thumbs hooked behind McCoy's head, and brought him forward into a tender kiss. Drawing out, McCoy rested his lover's head against his shoulder, and rubbed his hand over his back.

It was nothing worth saying, McCoy thought to himself. Sickbay was lit in a ghostly blue hue, with the beds empty. Wiping his hands off on a rag, he disposed of it down the chute.

Christine was in his office, completing the day's report. She raised her eyes and handed him the PADD. After reading over it, McCoy scratched out his signature. The sound of a chair scraping caused him to raise his eyes, and he saw his nurse leaning backward on her chair, one foot keeping her anchored to the floor. Chapel put a hand to her head, leaning it backward. Her eyes were closed. "All of that death…"

"I know," he said quietly, and felt the frustrated anger boiling within him. He didn't have to ask if she felt it, as well.

Chapel lowered her hands to cover her stomach. "Permission to speak freely?"

"Granted," he replied, placing the report away. With the shift over, there was time to speak.

"If I can, I want to be of more assistance," she explained. McCoy didn't press her, as it wouldn't be appropriate to do so. Korby went without speaking. "I've nothing to occupy my time otherwise. May as well put myself to better use." She glanced up at him, letting the point about Spock go. That ship had already sailed.

McCoy gave her a slight smile. "What do you have in mind, Christine?"

"Permission to join the away teams?" She inquired.

McCoy nodded. "I'll speak to the captain about it."

Chapel smiled and quietly began to contemplate the possibilities of where her life would lead her now.

**Author's Note:**

> Written while listening to "Touch in the Night" by Battle Beast.
> 
> This ended up being one of the more personal fanfics for me. Unfortunately, I didn't have the same luck as Spock does in this, with a caring partner. My first experience with this subject matter, quite literally, was painful, and it led to the end of a relationship. I guess this is my way of moving on from it. 
> 
> Merlin is from the book Shadows on the Sun by Michael Jan Friedman. I like to think of Nurse Chapel as more of an independent character. The jellyfish is a reference to Mass Effect.


End file.
